“Take one with Bozo and Miss Muffet,” Paige gleefully suggested.
The dogs tolerated exactly three pictures before Frankie granted their fervent wish to go inside.
Paige had an idea for another picture. “Mommy, take one of us with our daddy.”
Frankie swallowed, her conflicting emotions refusing to play nice with each other.
“Do you mind?” Spence handed her the phone, then knelt down, a girl on each side.
They didn’t cling to him, or he to them, but their smiles were big and bright. Frankie positioned the phone, a lump forming in her throat. Had things gone differently, taking pictures of Spence and the girls might have been a common occurrence. She didn’t say anything when no one suggested she be in any of the shots, telling herself she was making a big deal out of nothing.
Spence sat at the table and scrolled through the pictures, the girls looking over his shoulder and offering their opinions. Together, they chose several of the best ones, which Spence then e-mailed to his mother. Next, he pulled up pictures of his parents and brother’s family to show the girls.
“Maybe this weekend you can talk to them.”
Paige nodded enthusiastically, Sienna hesitantly.
“Have you ever video chatted?”
“What’s that?” Paige asked.
While he attempted to explain, with some of what he said going over the twins’ heads, Frankie checked the smokers. Part of her was glad the girls were accepting Spence and excited about meeting his family. The other part of her worried about how quickly Spence was becoming a part of their lives.
She’d allowed it. Heck, in some ways, she’d encouraged it. Like kissing him last night on the couch, for example, and requesting his help tonight. What if by letting him in, she was setting herself and their daughters up for heartache? His track record didn’t inspire confidence.
“Hurry up, you two,” she abruptly said, inexplicably annoyed. “Bath time.”
The protests were loud and emphatic. The girls desperately wanted to stay up.
“I’ll be here in the morning,” Spence promised. “We can have breakfast together.”
“Pancakes,” Paige exclaimed, with Sienna quickly seconding her.
“Anything I can take care of for you?” he asked Frankie.
She sent the girls inside before showing him how to refresh the wood chips. “Add more in another thirty minutes if I’m not back by then.”
“Got it.”
Wood chips. Not difficult. Surely he could handle that small task without messing up.
Bathing and the remainder of their nighttime routine took forty-five minutes. When Frankie finally returned, it was to discover Spence had changed into basketball shorts and a sweatshirt.
She paused at the doorway leading outside, her heart skipping erratically. She’d seen him in casual clothes a thousand times. Just not in her backyard. Something about it felt...intimate.
“You hungry?” she asked, rather than join him outside. Five minutes. That was all she needed to shore up her defenses.
“I ate earlier. But left room for dessert.” His innocent expression was exactly like the one the girls affected when attempting to sway her.
“There’s some blueberry cobbler in the fridge and leftover ice cream from the other night.”
“Oh, honey. You’re killing me.”
His tone, warm and sexy and so very familiar, affected her the way it used to by seeping past the defenses she’d carefully erected. Damn him.
“Be right back. Watch the wood chips.” She quickly retreated before doing something stupid like, she didn’t know, flirting maybe.
Chapter Nine
Frankie procrastinated, taking a full ten minutes to warm the blueberry cobbler and add ice cream. The brisket would be fine. Corralling her emotions, not succumbing to Spence’s charms, those things were more important. Paige and Sienna needed a mother whose control wasn’t obliterated by a sexy grin.
With a renewed sense of determination, Frankie went outside to the patio, plate in hand. When Spence saw her, he broke into an enormous grin, the kind moments earlier she’d warned herself to resist.
He’s just happy about the blueberry cobbler. That’s all.
Then explain why his gaze never left her face and seemed to center on her mouth.
“I forgot to give this to you earlier.” He shoved a hand into his sweatpants pocket and produced a check.
She set the cobbler on the table in front of him. “You don’t have to pay me for food.”
“It’s child support. For the rest of this month and next month, too.”
She accepted the check and sat, noting the amount was what they’d agreed on, no more and no less. Good. He was starting out on the right foot. “Thank you.”
Dropping into his chair, he attacked the cobbler. Between bites, he said, “I contacted an attorney today. He’s drawing up a preliminary custody agreement and will send it to your attorney, if that’s okay.” He downed another large spoonful. “Unless you’ve already done one.”
“No, not yet.”
Nothing like talking about attorneys and custody agreements to squash any romantic mood. Not that her mood had been elevated. Mostly, it was bouncing all over the place.
“He was recommended to me by my folks’ attorney.” Spence paused, spoon in midair. “I told them today. About the girls.”
“I figured as much when you took pictures. What was their reaction?”
“Mom’s thrilled and can’t wait to meet them.”
Only his mom? What about his dad? Frankie silently scolded herself. She was needlessly overanalyzing.
“Mom wants to visit this weekend,” he added, “but they’re having a big sale at the dealership. Would Tuesday or Wednesday be okay?”
“I work both those days.”
His features fell. Frankie’s guilt soared.
“But I’m sure I can switch days with Shelly Anne.”
Asking to introduce his parents to their granddaughters was a reasonable request, especially when the Bohanans were willing to drive the seventy miles from Marana. The least Frankie could do was accommodate them.
“I’ll fix us a nice lunch,” she offered. “Something casual. I think it would be best for Paige and Sienna if they met your parents here in familiar surroundings.”
He startled her by reaching across the table for her hand. A tingling sensation traveled up her arm, warming her skin from the inside and triggering silent alarms in her head.
“This means a lot to me.
“I’m, um...” Angry at herself for once again falling under Spence’s spell, Frankie reclaimed her hand. “Of course. I’ve always liked your parents.”
“They’ve always liked you, too.”
She made sure to place her hands in her lap, well away from danger. “When’s the last time you added fresh chips?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Ah. Okay.”
Spence promptly finished his cobbler and wiped his face with the napkin she’d brought. “What’s the game plan for tonight?”
Glad to change the subject, Frankie explained the ins and outs of monitoring the smokers all night. “Stop adding fresh chips after midnight. Then it’s a matter of making sure the smokers don’t shut off for any reason. So, no sleeping on your shift.”
“Do they tend to shut off?”
“I lost power one night in June,” Frankie said, “and it wasn’t restored until morning. If that were to happen tonight, there’s no way I could deliver the brisket on time.”
“Which is why you have a portable generator.”
So, he’d noticed. “Dad gave it to me.” She stood, and together they walked over to where the old but reliable generator sat up against the house. “There’
s enough gas for six hours. Don’t hesitate firing it up. I don’t care about the noise.”
After showing him how to start the generator, she took his plate and spoon into the kitchen. Because he’d changed into more comfortable clothes, she did the same thing, donning fleece leggings and a T-shirt and throwing an old shawl over her shoulders before going outside.
Not a single thing about her outfit screamed sexy, yet the flash of desire in his eyes was undeniable. Not wanting to encourage him, she asked, “First or second shift?”
“I don’t care either way.”
“Then I’ll take second shift.” Barring any problems, she’d be able to squeeze in a short nap after delivering the brisket and before going in to work. “I’ll set up my tablet for you. Streaming movies helps pass the time.”
“If you need to get to work tomorrow,” Spence said, “I can deliver the brisket. I have some errands to run, anyway. And I told Cara I’d stop by the planning meeting for the adoption event.”
“Thanks, but I like to personally meet the customers.”
This job was simply too important to her fledgling business not to warrant her full attention. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue working at the café; the environment had changed since Tia Maria’s nephew took over. And Frankie wasn’t the only employee contemplating her future.
Wait a minute. Who was she kidding? She would work there as long as necessary, even if she hated it. Frankie wasn’t ready to give up her benefits and couldn’t afford the monthly health insurance premiums on her own.
Had Spence covered that in the custody agreement? She’d know soon enough, when her attorney received the draft.
“Who’s watching the girls?” Spence asked, scattering her thoughts.
“They can come with me to deliver the brisket.”
“What about while you’re at work?”
Frankie had made a couple calls, hoping to find a substitute babysitter to take her sister Sam’s place. So far, she’d had no luck. “I’m thinking of calling one of the other preschool moms in the morning.”
“I can watch them.”
“You’ve done so much already.” Truthfully, Frankie wasn’t ready for such a big step.
“I’ll take them with me to the committee meeting. Cara mentioned her kids will be there.”
Frankie hedged. “Maybe I could call work and get the day off.”
The twinkle in his eyes dimmed. “I’m not a complete incompetent.”
She bit her lip, unsure how to take his remark. Had she hurt him? And if so, what if he went from being cooperative to stubborn, insisting he had rights and making her life difficult?
“Is asking you to check in with me every hour too overprotective?”
He nodded. “Easy enough.”
Knowing she’d be a wreck the entire time, she agreed, anyway. “All right.”
He abruptly got up and added fresh chips. Frankie noted the time; he’d remembered while she’d forgotten. She wasn’t reassured. There was a big difference between monitoring smokers and supervising two active little girls.
She also noted the rigid set of his shoulders. That was her fault, she supposed, and her responsibility to fix.
“I got a call earlier today on a used commercial smoker,” she said. “The seller originally wanted more money, but now he’s lowered his price.”
“Is it in good shape?”
“I’ve only seen pictures. I told him I’d drive over on my next day off.”
“Want me to go with you?”
Technically, Spence was one of her investors and had a right to an opinion on major purchases. And it was his contribution to her crowd-funding campaign she’d be using to buy the smoker. Still, she resisted. This was her business. She was the one in charge.
Before she had a chance to answer, Spence jumped back from the smoker, wringing his hand and swearing softly.
“What’s wrong?” She rushed toward him. “Are you okay?”
“It’s nothing.” He shoved the side of his hand into his mouth.
“You’re hurt.”
He chuckled. “Those smokers get pretty hot.”
“Let me see.”
“I’m fine.”
She sent him a disapproving look, the same one she used on the twins. He reluctantly presented his hand for her inspection. She took it in hers and moved them to a spot beneath the light in order to examine the burn.
“In my professional opinion, you’ll live,” she pronounced. “An ice pack will soothe the sting.”
“I already feel better. Must be the mom touch.”
“Paige and Sienna usually require a kiss before they quit fussing.”
“A kiss?” His voice lowered. “Even better.”
Shoot! Frankie had spoken without thinking. Leave it to Spence to derive a totally different meaning from her words.
“Well, y-yes,” she stammered. “But they’re little.”
Spence dipped his head. “I’m a kid at heart.”
She backed up, averting her face. He was not kissing her again. Not tonight. Things between them were getting way too cozy as it was.
“I’ll get my tablet.”
His hand must not hurt much, for he placed it on her arm. “That can wait.”
“It’s late. I should go to bed soon.”
“Frankie.” He tugged gently.
“No,” she stated firmly, and established ten inches of much needed space between them. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“Did I do something wrong?” If he was wounded by her rejection, he did a good job disguising it with annoyance.
Wait a minute. Why was he mad? He had no right to any expectations simply because they’d kissed twice in the past two days, and almost a third time.
All right, all right. Granted, she was running hot and cold. He could be confused.
“I apologize if I’ve given you the wrong impression. I’m not ready to pick up where we left off. There are still too many unresolved issues. We need to concentrate on reaching an amiable custody agreement, and on developing the girls’ relationship with you and your family.
“You can’t deny you have feelings for me.”
“Whether I do or don’t is irrelevant. I won’t let the girls get hurt.”
“Like I said before, I care too much to let that happen.”
She straightened her spine. “I’ve been and will continue to be accommodating as long as you continue to be a good father. I admit I may have allowed myself to...resume old habits, and again, I apologize.”
“You asked me here tonight,” he said.
“In order to help me with the brisket. You’re the logical choice, as you own a percentage of the catering business. That was my only reason.”
“You kissed me last night.”
That was true—she’d initiated their kiss. “I realize now I made a mistake. We were looking at the photo album, and I became sentimental.”
“All right,” he said brusquely, and increased the distance between them. “You’ve made yourself clear.”
As had he, stating from the start he’d come home to woo her.
“Fine. I’ll be right back.”
“Never mind.” His voice could slice steel. “I can read or watch movies on my phone.”
“Good night, then.”
Frankie wanted to kick herself. She shouldn’t have let him near her, shouldn’t have let him kiss her, if she wasn’t prepared for the consequences. The fact she had trouble resisting him or had wanted to satisfy her curiosity weren’t good enough reasons.
* * *
SPENCE FINISHED CHANGING clothes in the hall bathroom, using liquid soap from a butterfly dispenser, a pink washcloth and matching towel to freshen up. Somewhere around four o’clo
ck, he’d finally drifted off, only to waken at six thirty when his phone went off.
He’d jackknifed to a sitting position, took two seconds to remember he was on Frankie’s couch and then grabbed his phone off the coffee table where he’d left it. Had any name other than his friend Lucas Palmeroy’s appeared on the display, Spence would have let the call go to voice mail. But Lucas didn’t typically phone unless it was important.
By the time Spence finished his conversation, Frankie had come in from the patio, looking every bit as weary as he felt. They’d exchanged a few polite words about the brisket, which was nearly done. Neither of them mentioned their argument the previous night before he’d disappeared into the bathroom. Examining his stubbled jaw in the medicine cabinet mirror, he debated shaving with the disposable razor he’d brought. Outside the door, Paige’s and Sienna’s high-pitched voices came and went. By the time he emerged, marginally revived, the twins were sitting at the breakfast bar, hair adorably mussed, swinging their fuzzy slipper–covered feet.
“Good morning,” he said, mustering as much energy as he could.
“Mommy’s making pancakes,” Paige announced.
Indeed, Frankie stood at the stove, a spatula in her hand. “There’s a glass of orange juice for you already poured.”
Sienna pushed the glass toward him, gifting him with a shy smile.
“We’re helping Mommy with the brisket.” Paige’s pronunciation of brisket sounded more like biscuit.
Spence lowered himself onto the empty third bar stool and took his juice. “Did she tell you I’m watching you this afternoon while she’s at work?”
Both girls’ mouths dropped open, and they gasped with delight. At least, he hoped it was delight and not terror.
Frankie turned from the stove. “I haven’t yet.” A mild reprimand laced her voice.
At the moment, Spence didn’t care. She’d agreed, and he intended to make sure she kept her promise.
“We’re going to The Small Change Ranch, where the mustang sanctuary is.”
“To see some horses?” Paige exclaimed.
“I wish, but I have a meeting. Some other kids are supposed to be there.”
“Nathan from school and his little sister Kimberly,” Frankie told the girls.
The Cowboy's Twin Surprise Page 12